


Coffee Cups

by imfallingforyoureyes102



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Christmas, Coffee, F/M, Fluff, Loving Marriage, Protective Oliver, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tumblr Prompt, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-27 14:49:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16704556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imfallingforyoureyes102/pseuds/imfallingforyoureyes102
Summary: Oliver never thought he had a type - and he didn't. He didn't prefer blonde hair over red, he didn't like petite over average, he certainly could care less in terms of eyes. But he liked her blonde hair, and her small frame, and he definitely had a thing for the way her blue eyes flashed grey every time he approached her. Yeah, he didn't have a type, but he definitely had a crush.(Felicity is a barista at a coffee shop that writes extremely passive aggressive names on all of Oliver's coffee cups. He finally calls her out when "Douchdick" and "Crumbum" crack a smile so wide across his face it can't be contained and he realizes that she's the glimpse of light he's been looking for all this time.)





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a three-shot (this being part one) for you guys, coming your way. Hope you enjoy - please review!! Happy Thanksgiving!

He never thought he had a type – and he didn't. He didn't prefer blonde hair over red hair, he didn't like petite over average, hell, he had no intention whatsoever to scout out every blue eyed girl in the country over the others.

But he liked  _her_  blonde hair, and  _her_  small frame, and he definitely had a thing for the way her blue eyes flashed grey behind the frames of her glasses every time he approached her at the cash register, rattling off a load of nonsense to whomever was on the phone with him this time, paying little to no attention to the way she would throw him a glare as he ordered and paid without a breath in between.

Yeah, he didn't have a type, but he definitely had a crush.

And it's silly, he thinks, to have something as juvenile as a crush on a girl who could care less about him, but it's still something he can't help every day, when he sees the top of her uniform cap moving around the counter.

He can't help but avoid her glance every time she takes his order – can't help the way he talks in short, clipped sentences and waves off her recited offer of a "would you like a scone with that?" It's enough to agitate anyone, but the girl – Felicity, he learns from the small nametag – takes it in stride without even batting an eyelash.

She can't help the way her pink stained lips pull into a small scowl every time she sees the top of his dark hair and brooding face standing amidst the crowed of the morning workers in need of their coffee. It's a bit unfair, she thinks, that he can see so easily over the tops of everyone's head while she could stand on a stool and still have luck worth shit. She knows she shouldn't be so agitated over his lack of conversational skills – nearly everyone in the damn café couldn't spend two seconds off the phone let alone give her a friendly hello. Something about him though – maybe the sharp jawline or the eyes she couldn't quite place between blue or black – screams confidence and arrogance – the kind of confidence she stayed away from in high school because it was followed along by snarky popularity and hatred filled comments. It's not that she knows he's a jerk, she just thinks he is, and she makes it known every time she writes a different name on his cup everyday just to spite him. She doesn't think he ever notices though, but she continues to do so nonetheless.

He notices. He always does. And despite whatever feeling Felicity wants him to feel when he sees the messy "Douchedick" or "Crumbum" scrawled across the cup, he only feels a smile flash across face when he takes a sip under the summer sun.

As much as he hates his job – as much as he hates the fact that the CEO position of his family company was shoved into his lap only weeks after returning from the island -– he can't help but smile every time he walks into his office, because what greets him there is always much more pleasant that what lies in the deep dark niches of his mind. Oliver knows that Dig thinks he's crazy to keep every coffee cup that Felicity has written on set up along the shelves of his office like trophies, but he does it anyway because the amount of wit in each insulting name has only grown in intensity, and it make Oliver somewhat proud.

He never talks to her – he doesn't have the nerve – but eventually the rude business calls he uses as an excuse not to talk to her are held until after their encounters, and he sure as hell loves the blush that creeps across her cheeks the first time she realizes he's actually paying attention to her writing on the cup. She bites her lip then, slowly and casually setting the cup down and reaching for another.

"Keep it. It fits."

It's the first words Oliver ever really speaks to her, besides his normal order, and though she knew his voice was deep, she can't help shivering when she hears it. She stares hesitantly between him and the cup with the elegant "Ass Face" scrawled across it and Oliver holds back a smile – a real one – as she hands him the drink.

"It's Oliver, by the way. For next time."

**#**

The cups aren't quite that interesting after that – and Oliver is a little relieved. He had no clue where he would start placing the cups after the last shelf was filled and didn't have it in him to throw any away just yet.

Oliver is still too much of a coward to talk up a storm with her, but it's enough of a change to actually know his name that makes Felicity a little warmer towards him. Yeah, she still thinks he's a little too full of himself, but the banter that the two pick up in replacement of the cups is enough to quell the animosity.

He thinks it's fair to call her names now that she's had her fill. She thinks it's unfair that he uses her height as a basis for all of his jokes.

He always likes to tell her how much his day improves just seeing her face even if he has to stoop down three feet to find it – how much her "beautiful frown" is brighter than the sun. She can't wipe the frown off of her face when he doesn't show up one day.

She knows it's ridiculous – he's just a customer and she's a sleep deprived college student looking to make a few extra bucks with this barista job. But it still stings a bit to think about him flirting with another girl in some other coffee shop a few doors down.

By the third day, Felicity is pissed – both at herself for thinking he could be something to her and at  _him_  (and yes, he had fallen back down the ladder to insults again) – too pissed to see that he's standing in front of her again, but in a hoodie and sweats and a whole lot of black and blue on his face from his nighttime excursions.

She's surprised when she hears him, and even more so when she sees him, and soon enough hot coffee is on the both of them and Oliver can't help but crack a smile even though the movements in his face stings at his eyes.

She's too shocked to say anything and her eyes are wide and grey as they stare at him. And, because he often connects quietness with anger due to his time on the island, his smile falters as he begins to mutter apology after apology. It's Oliver's move to leave that pulls Felicity out of her frozen state, and because Oliver is suddenly so wrapped up in thought about all the violence and torture he’d been dragged through in his time away, he doesn't realize it's a small and delicate hand reaching for him rather than a tough one gripping a serrated knife and the small flinch that overcomes him makes Felicity's heart crack right down the middle.

It should be awkward because they really don't know each other  _that_  well and the only conversations they'd ever really exchanged were sarcastic and witty ones – the kind that skip over the dark sides of anything. But that doesn't stop Felicity from taking her break a full three hours early and pulling Oliver into a quiet booth – doesn't stop her from placing a fresh, hot cup of coffee in front of him with the words "Punching Bag" written lightly across the front.

It's then the two really start to talk – then when Oliver finally admits, at least to himself, that this thing he feels for her is far more than a crush. It's also then when Felicity realizes that  _she'd_  been the jerk the whole time.

They talk for a good two hours, and Felicity would have been fired if it weren't for her friend Phoebe who somehow had managed to keep the entire shop at bay while still flashing thumbs up over at Felicity every ten minutes or so.

He learns that she's a computer genius –  senior at MIT (top of her class, of course) – and that she has a thing for birds and a unparalleled fear of kangaroos. She learns that he hates storms and small spaces, and almost peed on a cop car in his not so glorious youth before his friend stepped in.

She realizes his eyes are actually blue – so blue they suck out her breath whenever he looks at her. He realizes her hair isn't actually naturally blonde, and that she’ll incarcerate him if he tells anyone, and that her small stature is deceiving of her strength. He likes her eyes the most, and the way her glasses steam up every time she takes a sip of coffee, but he can't help from glancing down at her lips every couple of seconds because the way they get all red when she bites them is enough to drive any sane person wild.

Felicity smirks a little when she realizes this – her mouth widening in a smile when she sees that he has begun mimicking her; his bottom lip is trapped between his teeth and she finally understands why people think the act is so endearing.

Oliver skips over the reason as to why his face is filled with bruises and scratches. Felicity respects that, but her insides twist with anger whenever his fingers reach up to brush at one of them. Felicity talks about her mother and her worldwind of crazy and compassion; Oliver talks about his baby sister – about how he used to bake cookies and do arts and crafts with her and was there for the very first time she zoomed off on her bicycle.

They both stop talking then – coffee cups empty and hearts full – and Oliver realizes that this is what contentment feels like. He’s not good with emotions, though, he never was, and he doesn’t know if she feels the same way. He’s scared that the way he pulls back and clears his throat will drive Felicity away. But his actions do nothing to stop her from slipping her phone number across the table to him as she gets up to go back to work, or him from calling her one night when he finds a bird nest outside his window and can't help but think of her.

She's there faster than she would like to admit, and it's a beaming Oliver that answers the door. The bruises are gone, but it's still an untouched topic that's been lingering around them for some time. Oliver’s not ready to wrap Felicity up in the danger that comes with his hooded alter ego; Felicity’s a bit smarter than Oliver gives her credit for, and the way her eyes brush over the callouses on his hand formed by his time running around with his bow only adds another piece to her little mystery puzzle.

She knows he’ll tell her whatever he wants to when he’s ready, though. And after a few drinks and watching the bird's nest, it's Oliver and Felicity sat on the couch in the abnormally clean and organized room in a tangle of limbs as Felicity tries to wrestle the remote out of Oliver's hands – apparently having to watch another minute of "Kangaroo Jack." is "not at all helping me get over my fear, Oliver, thank you very much."

Felicity doesn't understand how she ends up on his lap, nor how the remote ends up on the floor. Oliver does, but he's not exactly one to complain about the glorious things in life, and he holds her gently as her giggling subsides and she tries to look anywhere but him. He, above anyone, understands the need for boundaries and sits quiet and still, letting Felicity make all the choices.

Her eyes reach his, and all she can see is her reflection in his now black eyes – her eyes are ice blue, and Oliver thinks he can just stare at them all day and just be fine with that.

But when her lips meet his, soft and tentative, it's all he can do to not pull her face tight to his. And he's glad he doesn't, because within seconds it's her delicate hands curling around his neck and into his hair and his own running up and down her back and brushing against her jaw. He's just as new to this kind of delicate love as she is, but Felicity doesn't know that, and something along the feelings of inadequacy causes her to break the kiss.

She's panting hard and he's still got his eyes closed and all she can see are his slightly swollen lips and the flush now running up his cheeks and she can't help but smile a little to herself when he lets out a small groan in protest. Her thumb runs against his lips as a small "I've never done that before" leaves her lips and her eyes widen as she realizes how pathetic she probably sounds.

 Oliver's eyes flash open as he feels her head drop into his chest and he has to pry her face back up to meet his. His soft "This is all new to me too," is said with a small laugh and even though Felicity is certain that someone as good looking as him has had his fair share of one-night stands, something about the way his hands stay gentle on her hips and the way he doesn't look anywhere but her eyes makes her believe that whatever is happening between the two of them is far past unchartered territory.

They don't do anything but kiss until Oliver has to physically remove Felicity from his lap because of certain matters and Felicity laughingly suggests a walk for him to "cool off." It takes them both a few seconds to find something fit to wear for the night because where Felicity first arrived with only a chilly wind biting at her back, the first snow of the year is just starting in Starling City.

Oliver thinks Felicity looks ravishing in one of his old sweatshirt – he knows it's primal and caveman-y to think his clothing engulfing Felicity's small frame is so attractive but, then again, he never got to experience this kind of wonder in any relationship he’d ever been in and he definitely isn’t going to give up the chance now.

They walk past the coffee shop – it's closed now – and Felicity pulls him by the arm and asks him where he works. There's a small falter of a smile before Oliver points shyly ahead up the avenue and straight at the gigantic building towering over the rest of the buildings, the name "Queen Consolidated" set boldly into the stone. Felicity stops walking instantly as she connects the Queen on the building and the Queen grasping her hand with each other and finally –  _finally_  all the pompous calls and mutterings about this and that in the coffee line all make sense now. It’s then, right in the middle of the street, that she learns about the island, and there’s something stirring in Oliver when she admits that she had no idea who he was – no idea that he had been the famed survivor rescued from the North China Sea.

But, since his name is plastered on the building, Felicity thinks it's a reasonable request to see exactly where he works. After all, he must have the key to his own kingdom.

It isn't until he's turning the doorknob to his office that he remembers his little hoarding problem, but it's already a little too late because the key fits and the door is unlocked. He tries to stall Felicity, asking her if she wants any coffee or orange juice – "I'm sure there's some muffins in the kitchen," – but Felicity just rolls her eyes and strolls right past him as Oliver stands stone still and waits for a reaction.

He doesn't hear one, and he's a bit worried when he walks in. The worry leaves him though, almost instantly, when he finds Felicity on the ground shaking so hard with laughter that he is actually concerned about her hitting her head. She doesn't talk for a couple of minutes – can't really, through the snorts and giggles – and when she finally does her face is flushed with laughter and Oliver's with embarrassment.

It fades to a slight fondness, though, as Felicity goes around the room, reading each cup.

"I remember this one," she says staring at Oliver's favorite and most obscene cup. "You were being a complete dickwad that day."

"I was on the phone," Oliver tries to counter, but he remembers specifically that he had been trying to spite her, talking about how slow the service was and how disgusting the coffee usually tasted and asking the person on the phone (there really never was one that day) why he even kept going there.

"I was trying to hint that I only came there for you," he laughs at her scowl.

"Yeah, you were great at showing it."

**#**

It's almost Thanksgiving when Oliver enters the coffee shop for his usual fix and sees Phoebe behind the counter. He's about to cut everyone in line just to find out where Felicity was – she was always there – when he feels someone knock into his side.

It's Felicity, and she's mumbling apologies over and over before she realizes it's him and Oliver frowns at the way her eyes and nose are red and the way her voice sounds raspy. He doesn't hesitate in pulling her into a hug after his "what's wrong" causes Felicity's eyes to water up again – doesn't hesitate in pulling her over to the same quiet booth like she once did with him and grabbing a cup of coffee from Phoebe. He places it down in front of her gently, and she snorts when she sees the words "Cry Baby" scrawled across the front.

It's then he learns about Felicity’s crime lord father – then he learns that the man she had been hoping would finally come back into her life had done just that, but with an ulterior, money motivated motive.

It's also then that he realizes he loves her – right there, in the little booth by the window, with her red, splotchy face and red rimmed eyes.

**#**

Felicity falls in love with him a few weeks before Christmas as they walk past the park. A small soccer ball had made its way into their path and somehow the two of them had found themselves wrapped up in a soccer match with a bunch of eight year olds. It's when one of the boys falls down and scrapes his knee that Felicity knows it, because the way Oliver scoops him up and makes him laugh and laugh and laugh before his mother cleans him up shows just how selfless and kind he was, even when he didn't think so himself.

Unlike Oliver, she's always had a better way with words, and when he walks into the coffee shop Monday morning, he's almost too happy that Felicity had greeted him at the door to look down at the cup she was pressing into his hands. The way she kept biting her lips and glancing down at it, though, made Oliver do the same, and the words scrawled across the side were by far the best she had ever come up with.

"I love you."

Within seconds, he can feel his heart slamming in his chest, and he knows he must really look pathetic with his wet eyes and choked up voice as he tells her he loves her too, but the last time someone had told him that they loved him – that he was loved – was over five years ago and had made him run for the hills.

Oliver doesn't go into work that day – the last thing he wants is to go to the place that he felt most uneasy after coming back from the island– and he sits around in the small café until Felicity finishes her shift. She has twenty minutes before class, but neither could care less and they spent the twenty minutes walking around in the on and off snow, pointing out the few birds that had decided to stick it out for the winter.

**#**

They’re in the middle of a snow storm when Felicity finds out Oliver is The Hood. She’s had her hunches for a while, and she knows that he knows that she knows exactly who he is, but they’ve kept up the innocent game of cluelessness for the past month instead of addressing the very green elephant in the room.

Felicity doesn’t want to push him – doesn’t want make him tell her something if he wasn’t ready to. She knows how that feels, especially from her first few years of college and bad boyfriend choices – so when he walks in one day past midnight with blood seeping through his t-shirt, all she does his settle him down in the kitchen stool and press a kiss to his forehead.

Oliver’s eyebrows are furrowed and his lips are tight – with worry or with pain, Felicity doesn’t know. He’s fumbling for words and trying to get Felicity to stand still so he can _finally_ tell her, but all she does is brush her lips against his and whispers a soft _I know._

The next time Felicity has to stitch up Oliver from patrol it’s because he had been laughing so hard at something Felicity had said through the coms from her position as Overwatch that he had missed the last step on the way out of the Foundry.

**#**

By the time Felicity's exams rolls around in the spring – her graduation looming around the corner – Oliver has spent more hours cooped up in the office and Felicity has quit her job in the coffee shop. She needed more time to study, and he needed more time in the office to pacify his mother, and by the time either got to see each other at the end of the day, both were so exhausted all they could do was fall asleep tangled up in each other's arms.

It's for that reason that they are a bit confused when they both get home at a sane hour – Felicity from the library, Oliver from the office – and both a bit at a loss at what to do with their free time. It's a split second of confusion, though, because in the next second Felicity is pressed up against the wall with Oliver's hands gripping at her hips and for a few minutes neither of them dares to breathe as he kisses every inch of skin he can reach. They've done enough of this to know when to stop before it goes too far, but for some reason Felicity can't stop grabbing at Oliver's hair and doesn't protest one bit when he picks her up and presses her further into the wall, her legs wrapping around his strong torso. And Oliver can't help but groan – when she whimpers like that – as he rolls his hips against hers. He can't help but feel a bit lightheaded when she grabs at his belt buckle and looks up at him through her eyelashes.

Oliver has always been the one to move too fast and then jump ship, but Felicity’s different and _by God_ he couldn’t mess this one up – he wouldn’t. So they’d been taking it slow, taking it at Felicity’s pace, and where he would have loved to throw her down on his bed and explore every inch of her the first time they kissed, he loved each fleeting touch and innocent whisper that had filled its place.

He carries her, then, to his room – their room, really. Oliver doesn't know the last time she'd been in her dorm, and he could care less because right now, all he could think about was the girl beneath him. He continues to kiss her – hesitantly now, because they have never gone this far – and she encourages him along with every small whimper and breathless whisper.

He stops when he reaches her face, and her eyes flash open. She's always been self-conscious about her body – about her chest and her size – but where she's always seen imperfection, he's seen beauty beyond anything.

Oliver is panting and Felicity's chest is heaving, and when her fingers claw at his belt buckle once again he doesn't ignore it.

"Felicity, are you sure - ,"

He laughs as his question is cut off by Felicity's lips.

**#**

Oliver's hands can't stop shaking, and he's a little worried at the fact that  _he_  was more panicked than Felicity at her own graduation. She thinks it's funny, that he can't stop fidgeting. He thinks she has the easy part in the day's activities – he was the one who had to meet her parents.

True to Felicity's word, they arrive a bit late – late enough, in fact, for Felicity to already be seated and for him to have to meet them alone. He would berate Felicity for this, but for some odd reason, he has a feeling that she did this on purpose – probably to get back at him for all the comments about her height he had first made.

He speaks to her father first, and because somehow he isn’t in jail and because somehow he’d made a recent effort to be more involved in Felicity’s life since the last time he tried to extort money from her, Oliver puts on his best smile. He’s still growling on the inside because of all the tears he has seen Felicity shed over the man, but it’s her big day and he’s just sane enough to let it slide for the time being.

Her cousins are a whole world of their own, smiling flirtatiously at him and raking his body head to toe, but it’s Donna Smoak that pulls a big smile from Oliver Queen and squeezes him tight with her enthusiastic hug.

He’s heard a million stories of Donna and Felicity and their outrages adventures when Felicity was growing up, and while real life revealed that Donna was just as eccentric in reality as in story, Oliver can’t help but find the similarities between mother and daughter.

They both had wonder in their eyes and compassion in their smile, and while Oliver loved his mother to the moon and back, there was just something so warm and motherly about Donna that it made him so happy to know that she was Felicity’s mom.

His nerves are gone as he chats openly with the older blonde, but he can’t form word when he sees her striding across the stage, and he can't help the widest smile he's ever smiled that spreads across his face as he watches Felicity accept her diploma – can't help calling out when everyone applauds. It's a good think he doesn't see Felicity's parents watching their interaction with a similar smile, or he would have been redder than Felicity when she found out Oliver had a thing for her.

After the ceremony, they all grab a cup of coffee – Oliver and Felicity trying their best not to crack up when, for the first time in a long time, their actual names appeared on the cups.

**#**

It's Christmastime again – or Hanukah for the Smoaks, and Oliver finally gets to see where Felicity grew up – where she really grew up. He knew that she had initially moved around a lot, but this is the home that had held her birthday parties and bat mitzvah; that had housed countless sleepovers and Smoak Thanksgivings. He's never really talked about his homelife before the island willingly – the only time they ever really talk about it is when he wakes up in the middle of the night panting and sweating with flashes of images of his father with a gun to his head playing back in his mind and he longs for any semblance of normalcy. Felicity doesn't mind. She knows he'll tell her when he's ready. Oliver is grateful for that, because sometimes he doesn't think he'll ever be ready.

He's seated in the living room, and Oliver has a smile on his face as he watches Felicity's little cousin pin ornaments on the Christmas tree. His smile grows even wider when she – Becca – comes up to him and asks him to play. Felicity was in the kitchen with her father and cousin, Susan and Felicity's mother was sat on the other couch watching the two race small cars up and down the floor.

It's only when Becca falls asleep halfway through one of their races that Oliver looks up and sees her watching them – only then when he realizes why he had been feeling so nervous in the first place.

He picks Felicity's little cousin up and sets her on the couch, covering her with the nearest blanket before turning to Felicity's mother

"Mam - ,"

"Donna. I told you to call me Donna, Oliver."

"Donna, I, uh, I wanted to ask you something. Something important."

Felicity walks in the room then, and Oliver almost swears in surprise because Felicity has always had impeccable timing.

"Dinner's ready."

She stands there, smiling, waiting for the two to get up, and Oliver knows it's a lost cause to try anything now.

Felicity turns to leave, and Oliver watches Donna scoop her niece up.

"Oliver?"

"Hhmm."

"Yes. You have my permission. Yes."

**#**

It takes a lot of convincing to get Felicity to go on a walk after dinner – she's full, he's full, and the snow outside just wasn't as endearing as the fireplace in the living room. But when Oliver mentions coffee she throws out a "why the hell not," and they both find that their "walk" is actually a sprint to the café because of the blizzard like snow swirling around them.

Oliver keeps his left hand in his pocket, scared that if he didn't he'd ruin everything, and Felicity is almost bouncing up and down in excitement when she realizes that they had peppermint flavored everything. They grab a drink for everyone because, as Felicity had so eloquently repeated, "why the hell not," and the walk back is much easier now that the snowflakes had reduced quite considerably from the ping pong sized balls to small wisps.

They're soon all seated in the living room watching a Christmas movie – “ _just because we’re not Christian doesn’t mean we don’t watch Christmas movies, Oliver. We’re Jewish, not Neanderthals”_ – Felicity’s cousin, husband, and Becca taking up one couch, Felicity's parents on the other. Oliver doesn't mind that they've been given the floor, because here he has enough room to pull Felicity close enough so that her back is against his chest as he sits propped against the couch.

His arms are encircled around her waist, his chin propped on her head, and he pays more attention to playing with her finger that he does the movie.

She's just finishing her coffee as she looks down, watching Oliver's fingers intertwine with hers. It must be the flicker from the screen, or the way the light shifts, because all of a sudden, she's all too aware of what's written on her cup – all too aware of what his fingers are doing.

And, as much as she prides herself for being fairly composed, she can't help but start crying  _at_   _least a little._

Because, as she had twisted the cup to see the writing, Oliver had slipped a ring on her left hand.

"I know this is probably the most cliché way to do this," she could feel him whispering in her ear as she tried not to fully burst into tears. "But it was you who started it."

Oliver can't get out one-tenth of his speech before Felicity is turned around and kissing him – probably way harder than she should have been with her parents right behind them. But he doesn't care, because all he can hear is her mumbled yes over and over again.

Everyone in the room had lost interest in the movie, and it wasn't until the two had stopped kissing that Felicity picked up the empty coffee cup and brushed her thumb over the writing scrawled across it.

" _Marry me,"_ it said.

Felicity reached across to the coffee table and snatched the pen on it before grabbing Oliver's own cup.

"I just figured that since I started it," Felicity whispers into Oliver ear, "I should end it,"

Oliver can't help but let out a laugh as he glances down at the coffee cup.

“ _Yes._ ”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity develops a distaste for coffee, and Oliver is absolutely floored by the new development.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2! I hope you enjoy, thank you so much for reading!

"I don't want it."

She bats the cup away from her as she rolls out of the bed, her breath held so tightly Oliver thinks she'll pass out.

She looks up at his stunned face, at the way his eyes stand wide and curious, and she gives him a small frown. He misreads it, as usual, and slowly walks towards her, cup of coffee snatched firmly in his grip.

"Are you mad at me - ,"

Felicity doesn't care about his feelings as she backs away from him as quickly as she can, her back hitting the wall as she stares at her confused husband.

"Felicity, what the hell?"

She smiles at that, mostly because somewhere in his confusion Oliver puts the steaming mug of coffee down and he crosses his arms firmly across his torso as he stares just as piercingly at his wife as she is at him.

"God, Oliver," she laughs, "I'm not mad."

She watches as his head tilts to the side almost comically, and his hands fly up to gesture at her pressed up position against the cool wall.

"Why did you just plaster yourself to our house then? I mean, yeah, you look great up there. Best piece of art up there I've ever seen," He gives an approving nod, silently letting out his held breath as he realizes him and Felicity are just  _fine,_ she was just being, well, weird. It's a fine line Oliver always cautiously treads, though, because where Felicity was always an angel from the moment he met her, all understanding and trusting and loving, he had spent far too much time on the island to be anything short of fucked up and he always worried he would one day wake up to see Felicity walking out the door.

It's one reason Felicity always tells him how much she loves him– how warm and gentile she knows he is and how kind his eyes were when they eye her the way they were now. Never mind the confusion in them.

"I just really want to take a shower."

Her response is a complete lie and they both know it, but Oliver lets it go because if he's learned one thing about Felicity, it was that she was allowed to be as weird and as goofy as she wanted in response to his stoic sense of emotionlessness she always said he expressed out in public.

He just shakes his head as he picks up the small coffee mug on the bedside table.

"You might want to drink this before it goes cold - ," Oliver starts, turning around. His words are cut off by the slamming of the bathroom door, though, and he just shrugs as he brings the warm liquid to his lips, inhaling the intoxicating fumes with a content sigh. "More for me, then."

**#**

Oliver trudges through the fallen leaves as he makes his way to the gigantic, looming building in the distance. He doesn't miss the loud and tall "Queen Consolidated" slewed gracefully across the top of the building, nor the way the cold bites at his fingers and the tips of his ears. Despite his desperate desire for the warmth of the indoors after his time on Lian Yu, he can't fully understand how people despise the cold weather. He liked snow – hell, he fucking loved it when he didn’t have to survive in it. Felicity says he must like it so much because he never really got to enjoy it as a child, always being pulled away from paparazzi flashes and “unrefined snow games” as his mother had called them, but she loves it just as much as him and he can't help but grin widely at the swirling red and orange leaves dancing in the wind.

As morbid as it was, their falling was just another step closer to the bucketfuls of snow that completely swamped Starling City during the winter months, and Oliver was so ready to see the ground covered only in the slick white of snow.

He passes the small coffee shop where he first met Felicity, and his body almost instinctively turns towards the double doors. He stops himself though, with the ghost of a small smile on his lips, as he remembers that she no longer works there – that she is far too busy at QC as a rising R&D department head to even consider making the trek down to this coffee shop.

He doesn't go inside, but he stops just outside of it for a few seconds as he stares into the cozy café, watching the line grow to where it was almost spilling outside into the cold air.

Oliver shoves his gloveless hands further into his pockets as he picks up his pace and walks faster towards his office, suddenly struck out of his reminiscing daze and reminded of the reality he was facing at home.

Dig can't even get out his usual 'good morning, fuckface' before he's being pulled into Oliver's office.

"Yo man, what's up."

His jovial smile is so childish Oliver can't help but laugh as his Dig brushes a few stray leaves off of his friend's shoulder. Felicity had taken to calling Dig Oliver's work husband – “ _very protective, body guarding work husband” –_ in both the business and nighttime crime fighting settings, and though he would never admit it, the way the two acted around each other made Felicity's description almost eerily accurate.

"It's Felicity."

"Aw, wife problems. I hear ya. Lyla won't stop going on and on about how I need to buy Sarah more diapers - ,"

"You probably should man," Oliver laughs, grinning incredulously at his best friend. "Sarah isn't just gonna magically become potty trained, and I'm pretty sure ten months is a bit too young for that anyway."

Oliver's grin widens as Dig mumbles something along the lines of "you're right," and he folds his arms across his body as he leans against his desk.

"She's been going on about you, too, you know," Dig says. "'L’Ollie this, L’Ollie that. I swear man, sometimes she forgets she has a dad."

Oliver snorts at his goddaughter's antics, and smiles even wider when he realizes just how much happiness had been brought into his life in the past few years – he had met Felicity, gained a whole new family, started mending his relationship with his mother, and had even somehow ended up with a goddaughter in the mix. He frowns, though, when he realizes that good streaks weren't even his thing, and that somehow this luck was bound to end.

"So, Felicity. What's up." Dig looks up at his friend with a small smile.

"She didn't want coffee this morning."

Oliver doesn't realize exactly how stupid of an issue his problem sounded like until he had said it aloud and the idiocy of it was ringing around in the ears of his best friend.

"Woah, man. Might as well get those divorce papers ready." Dig snickers at his own joke as Oliver frowns and waves him off.

"No, no, it's not just that. She was being, I don't know…," Oliver trails of as he looks up at Dig. "Weird? I guess."

"What do you mean by weird? You do realize that this is _Felicity_ we are talking about. Felicity with the panda flats and unnerving amount of knowledge on kangaroos."

Both Oliver and Dig share a look as they both remember the day Felicity had walked into the lair, casually informed the two of them of the fact that female kangaroos had _three_ vaginas, and proceeded to track down the current crime lord in Starling City without so much as a blink in their direction.

Oliver thinks about how to phrase this aspect of weird, but the more he thinks about how Felicity had nearly sprinted to take a shower before even having a sip of her beloved coffee, the more he realized he would sound even more ridiculous if he stated this as a problem.

"You know what, never mind."

"Never mind?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just being crazy. Never mind. It's all good."

Diggle gives his friend a small frown before heading towards the door. "Alright then." He gives Oliver a small nod before showing himself out, and Oliver slumps himself behind the grand wooden desk he once had littered with coffee cups, dropping his head into his hands.

_This is going to be a long day._

**#**

Oliver grabs coffee on the way home, something he had done since – well since forever. The only difference he noted was the fact that instead of having one hand outside in the bitter cold of November gripping at his coffee, he now has two. Well,  _had_ two. It seemed everyone was in a hurry today, because Oliver found himself swearing when a passerby managed to knock into him and spill some of the steaming hot liquid down his front. Even in this cold he hated the searing burn that trickled down his chest.

He knows Felicity left work early, but it's not until he's back home that he remembers her sudden refusal for coffee, and he sets the two cups – one more slightly empty than the other - down gently before heading quietly to the living room where he finds Felicity curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

He lets out a small sigh as he drops down next to her, lying down on the cushions, and he pulls her onto him and welcomes her body heat far more than he would a blanket. He used to think it was scary, how Felicity could sleep through nearly anything – any noise, any movement, and shake – but at times like these, he loved that he didn't have to walk on glass around her, that he could just pull her onto him without having to worry about waking her.

Apparently, though, smells were a different thing.

She rustles against him, and her glasses push up sideways, revealing an indent on the side of her face she had been sleeping on. Oliver’s lips turn up slightly as he pulls them from her face.

"You smell like coffee," she mumbles against his chest, moving her face again to a different side to get away from the smell.

Oliver doesn't think much of it, too tired and too warm to offer anything but a small "Mhmm."

Felicity keeps moving, though, until eventually she's lifting herself up and covering her nose.

Oliver doesn't take it personally – heck, he's more interested in the fact that he's now cold without his wife on top of him, and his eyes flash open to see Felicity sitting at the other end of the couch taking slow, deep breaths.

He props himself up and makes to move towards her when Felicity hold up one of her hands, the other still clamped firmly over her nose.

"Change your shirt, Oliver."

He rolls his eyes as he rips of the shirt, wiggling his eyebrows when he sees Felicity scan his torso. Some things, he thinks, never do change.

"Okay, am I good now? Can you come back?" Oliver frowns as Felicity slowly takes her hand away from her nose and takes a tentative sniff. His frown deepens even further when it rushes quickly back to her nose.

"I still smell it."

"Smell what, Felicity?"

"Coffee, I smell coffee."

"Yeah, that's because there's some in the kitchen. I thought you might want some."

Felicity's voice is small when she answers him, but it's defiant nonetheless. "Could you throw it out? Please?"

Oliver doesn't really think he hears her right, especially with her hand muffling her voice, because the Felicity he knows would think throwing perfectly good coffee out was just about the worst thing in the world.

But when she repeats her question, it's a dumbstruck and nodding Oliver that answers.

When he comes back, Felicity is back to normal, waiting for him to settle back into the couch. Oliver is colder than cold now, and despite Felicity's protests, grabs a shirt from their room before climbing back onto the couch.

His hand pressed against Felicity's forehead is the first thing that happens, and it's Felicity's turn to roll her eyes at her husband.

"Oliver?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

"Checking for a fever."

"Why?"

"Because, sweetheart, the last time I checked, coffee was your best friend and not something you just tossed in the trash."

Felicity drops her head into Oliver's shoulder, a groan ripping out from her small frame.

"Can we just stop talking about coffee please?"

"Why? What's wrong with coffee?"

"Oliver, please."

"You love coffee."

"Oliver, just stop -,"

"Coffee."

He knows he's being immature, but if Felicity won't tell him what's up then he'll be damned if he doesn't annoy the details out of her.

"God, you're being so annoying!"

"Who's this God you're talking to?" Oliver smirks, his eyes glinting in the playful way that only Felicity ever sees. Felicity wishes others saw this side of him – he was so much kinder than they knew.

"Oh good, Dad jokes. We're set," Felicity mumbles quietly.

"What? That makes no sense."

" _Nothing_ ," Felicity smiles up at her husband. "Just shut up, or I'll tell Thea that we'll  _gladly_ go on that double date she's been going on about.

"Fuck no."

It’s a quiet night what with no criminal or mafia to track down, and Felicity's laughter fills the air as Oliver pulls her into him. They both lay there for a good while, watching old reruns of FRIENDS and talking about absolutely nothing.

**#**

It's when Felicity is hunched over the toilet the next morning that Oliver knows something is really up.

She had scared him when she walked into the kitchen and had just  _looked_  and the cup of coffee Oliver was sipping on (he had only brewed one this time, because he was thoughtful like that) and turned white.

He can't really do much, though, as she groans against the porcelain, but he holds her hair back and rubs her back until she's done and sagging weakly against him on the bathroom floor.

Oliver is propped back against the wall now, with Felicity leaning between his legs, her head lolled back in the gap between his head and shoulder. He puts his hand against her forehead and pulls it away when he doesn't feel any heat. Felicity pulls it back up on her forehead, though, because where she felt shaky and clammy, Oliver's hand was cool against her skin.

"Okay, so no more co - ,"

"I swear to God, Oliver, if you say that word one more time I'll throw up all over  _you_."

**#**

Oliver doesn't exactly know what happened in the week leading up to Thanksgiving, but what he did know was that he, Felicity and Dig were beyond stressed with the newest case and the endless hours cooped up in the Foundry. Felicity was at a new level of exhausted because of all of the hours of work she was putting in to launch a new product, and she was still throwing up everything she ate and refusing coffee – even the word – left and right.

It's even worse one day when they both get back from the lair and start arguing – small things at first – why the dishes weren't done and why the closet was a mess. But then it's Oliver asking why Felicity can't just tell him  _what the hell was wrong_ and Felicity mumbling back the same old 'nothing' that she always uses _._ She's lost weight, both of them can see that, and it doesn't help that every time Oliver even mentions her eating that she gets mad. She tells him that she feels awful all the time, having to force food down just to have it come back up. He tells her that she needs to  _fucking take care of herself_ and she screams at him that she's _fucking trying._

The argument has no validity, and deep down they both know it, and yet it's the biggest one they'd had so far and it scares them both way too much. They both know that they're yelling at each other because they're just tired, but Oliver doesn't miss the way Felicity stays up way past midnight just staring at the ceiling because he spends the night the same way, but on his side, staring at the wall.

The next morning they're both in the car, bright and early, on their two hour drive down to the Queen Cabin up north for Thanksgiving the next day. They pull over at a McDonald's twenty minutes into the drive because the small bit of cereal Felicity had managed down that morning was just as unpleasant, if not more so, coming back up. She says she just has to use the bathroom, but they both know that's not true. Oliver is starving, but he knows the smell of food will just make Felicity nauseous, so he just waits in the car and watches the autumn leaves swirl around them in the drizzling rain.

It's a silent drive after that, with the rain growing steadily heavier, and Oliver thinks Felicity has fallen asleep until he hears small sniffles and looks across to see her tearstained face. His heart collapses in on itself then, and he pulls into a small stop before climbing into the backseat of the car and pulling Felicity into him.

They stay like that for an hour, both tangled up in on each other, his fingers running almost rhythmically through her hair, as they catch up on the sleep they lost the night before and mend themselves back together.

When they reach the cabin, they're back to their normal selves, Oliver cracking lame jokes just to get Felicity to laugh, and Felicity replying snarkily to whatever idiotic story her husband tells her of the stupid things he and Tommy did as kids. She talks about Diggle’s baby girl, carefully gauging Oliver's reactions at everything she said.

Oliver pulls in behind Thea’s car, and his door his barely opened when they both see their little niece running towards them at full speed, totally disregarding the rain pouring down all around them.

Felicity waves to her mother, cousin, and Moira standing in the doorway, but her breath is taken by the sight in front of her as she watches Becca make a beeline towards Oliver. She knows she should be a little offended that Becca knew Oliver a bit less than she knew her – she was her cousin’s daughter after all – but it makes her smile madly to know that Oliver loved the little girl no less than she did.

Oliver crouches down just in time, his arms wide open, as Becca literally flings herself into him. He scoops her up and spins her before bringing her down in his arms and grinning up into her little face.

"Hi my little Becca bug. I missed you," Oliver whispers, grinning widely, as she plants a small kiss on his nose. He reciprocates, kissing every little inch of her face – her cheeks, her forehead, her nose. Felicity knows she wasn't supposed to hear those words, that they were just for her niece, but she follows them into the house with the warmest feeling in her chest.

There are hugs all around – a clap on the back between the men, and Felicity's mom fussing over how much taller Oliver had gotten even though they both knew Oliver hadn't grown an inch for years now. Moira is equal parts welcoming as she is intimidating, but the way her smile lingers as she greets Felicity is exactly the same as a hug in Felicity’s eyes.

"We're don't have cranberry sauce," the words come from little Becca, her "r's" pronounced as "w's" and her grammar so perfectly incorrect.

"I'll get some," Felicity pipes up, and Oliver looks up in surprise from his discussion with Roy as the two make eye contact. He's silently asking her if she's really up for that. She's silently, but lovingly, telling him to fuck off.

"I'd let Oliver go, but he looks way too enthralled by whatever Roy is talking about," Felicity whispers to her niece, knowing full well that Oliver actually  _was_ very interested in Roy’s newest job because he worked as a mechanic and they were both the biggest car nerds she knew.

"What's 'enthwalled' mean?"

"It means fascinated, baby." Felicity leans down to see what Becca's drawing.

"What is that?"

Her niece looks up at her with a grin before pointing to her picture.

"That's Daddy and Mommy, and Grandma," she says pointing respectively at each person. "Then there's you and Unca Ollie," Felicity laughs at the nickname only reserved for family and close friends. "And that's me," she says proudly, pointing down at the little girl in the pink sweater.

Felicity frowns.

"And who's that?" she asks, pointing at an even smaller girl standing next to Becca's drawing of herself.

"That's your baby. That's my cousin." Becca grins up at Felicity and Felicity flashes a small smile down at Becca, glancing up quickly to make sure Oliver hadn't heard that.

"Well it's a very pretty picture."

"Can I come with you to get the Cwanbewy sauce?"

Felicity laughs, "Susan?” she calls out to her cousin, “Can I take her with me?"

"Of course! Drive safe."

The two of them take much longer than necessary picking up the sauce, and Becca insists that they buy a small pumpkin gourd leftover from Halloween because they were "just so pwetty."

It's also a split second decision that Felicity makes when she pulls into the small coffee shop that they went to after Christmas dinner, the night Oliver proposed. She buys Becca a small hot chocolate, and grabs a bigger one for Oliver, her breath held almost the entire time. It wasn't coffee, but it was a peace offering, and the thought was what counted the most.

Becca's full of energy by the time they get back, and Felicity makes Becca promise not to tell her Mommy that she gave her sugar. The cat's out of the bag, though, when Becca sprints into the house and nearly plows over everyone in her haste to show "Unca Ollie" her pumpkin gourd.

Oliver is still laughing at Roy laying on the floor when Felicity walks in, and Felicity's mom is just finishing the last of Thanksgiving preparations for the next day and was about to start a quick dinner for tonight. Oliver gives Becca a little pat on the head and politely excuses himself to the living room where Felicity is sitting.

"Hey."

"Hey."

They both sit on the couch in the living room, Felicity wringing her hands around the coffee cup while avoiding Oliver's eyes.

"Is that -,"

"No, no," Felicity laughs, cutting Oliver off before he said the offending word. "Still can't stand the stuff."

"Oh."

They were both past the fight – both past the bickering and the stress – but Oliver could tell Felicity was struggling to find the words to something and he didn't want to interrupt.

"I – I, uh," Felicity bites her lip, staring off into every corner of the room to avoid his gaze.

"Felicity?"

"I-I got you hot chocolate," Felicity says, shoving the cup into Oliver hands. He takes it from her, grabbing a hold of one of her hands. She smiles at him and Oliver glances down at the cup out of instinct, not actually expecting to see any words. He smiles, though, when he sees Felicity's scrawl across the front. The smile falls almost instantly, though, when he sees what those words actually are.

_Sorry, Daddy._

"Uh Felicity, no offense, but this has to be the creepiest and or most forward cup you've ever given me."

Felicity glance down at the cup, fully registering what the words actually meant in all different types of contexts, and breaks down laughing for a good five minutes before she can get out a coherent word.

" _Oh my God_ ," she laughs, eyes watering and smile wide. "I didn't even think of it that way you sicko _. I'm_  not calling you that."

"Then who is?" Oliver laughs, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I don't have some kid that I don't know about do I – oh,  _oh_."

His eyes flash up to Felicity in an instant and instead of the wide smile that had been plastered on his girl's face seconds earlier, all he sees is a nervous lip bite and a furrowed brow.

"Felicity - ,"

"Dinner's ready!" Thea’s smiling face appears in the doorway and Felicity bolts up. "I've interrupted something," Thea says sheepishly, slowly backing out of the room.

Oliver stands up, setting the cup down on the coffee table.

"Felicity, what is this?"

Felicity is beyond scared at this point, because she never thought she'd actually have to say anything for Oliver to get the point. Then again, sometimes the men she was surrounded with weren't exactly the brightest all the time.

"I'm pregnant?" It comes out as more of a question than anything else, but it's all the conformation Oliver needs.

He stands there, stock-still, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

A baby.  _A baby?_

Thoughts of his time on Lian Yu flood his memory – the trauma he would always wake up to, the terror of not knowing whether life was attainable for just one more day, the violence and danger being the Hood – all of it. He thinks about all the times  he'd promised himself he'd never have children if he got off the island, just so they would never have the chance to face the cruelties of the world – just so he'd never have to go through a reality where he would have to face the same terror his mother did when he had gone missing. He can't think, not now, not with Felicity staring at him through her wide grey eyes, her lip caught firmly between her teeth.

But then it's all he can see. A little girl with Felicity's eyes and pout. A little boy with her defiant nature and piercing glare. He can't unsee it now, and he certainly can't unwant everything he just realized he so desperately craved.

He wanted this, my God, he wanted this.

He can feel his eyes prickling, but he looks back into Felicity's eyes with as much intensity as he was feeling.

"Oliver?"

A smile spreads across his face, so wide and so large that Felicity thinks it's the biggest one she's ever seen from him. She feels a flutter in her chest as a tear falls from Oliver's eye, and he pulls her so tight against his chest that she can feel just how fast it's beating.

He pulls away from her gently.

"A baby?" His voice is so small, so innocent, that Felicity feels like crying herself.

"Yeah. Yeah, a baby," she whispers.

Oliver crashes his lips to hers before pulling back and kissing every inch of her face. He pulls her back to him, his chin resting just atop her head, and rocks the two of them back and forth.

"God, I love you so much, Felicity."

She laughs, "I love  _you_."

Thea’s back in the doorway, along with the rest of the family, all of them wondering why the duo were taking so long.

All they see, though, is Oliver's broad back and Felicity's body enveloped tightly in his embrace. Oliver is whispering something to her, something they can't really hear, but Felicity can and that's all that really matters.

"So  _this_  is why you didn't like the smell of coffee – unf," Felicity wedges her fist firmly into Oliver's side.

"You're ruining the moment, idiot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, my dudes, hope you liked it!
> 
> Please review and let me know what you think! :)))


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3, Oliver and Felicity experience her pregnancy and then some. Coffee is still not allowed in the mix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andddd part 3! Hope you enjoy, sorry if there are errors, but I reallllllyyyy should NOT be doing this right now and should be doing my homework. Ha. 
> 
> Also, to my homies in college - 2 more weeks or so (of pure and utter hell) and then break!! We got this, my dudes. I'm rooting for all of you! Hope you enjoy, please PLEASE review I love it so much!

Oliver had never seen as many children as he had today.

It's weird, he thinks, that before Christmas all he saw on his walks home from work were weary-faced businessmen and homeless beggars staring up at him with pleading eyes (he always gave whatever money he could find on him – he knew only too well what it was like to go days without food). It's also strange how all he knew before the New Year was the straight path from the office to home, a coffee shop passing on his left and the ever-growing Apple store looming in on his right.

But now all he can see is the rosy, cold cheeks of the little boy that accidentally bumps into him on the sidewalk – all he hears are the chiming laughs echoing across the street from the park as children throw snow at each other, dancing in the beauties of winter.

And he can't help but smile when the pink nosed boy leaves a small hot chocolate stain on his jacket – can't help but stare across the street to the park, his eyes following the swirl of girls and boys chasing each other through the ice.

But it's a pounding heart and a small laugh that he can't help but let out when he walks into their apartment to find Felicity completely passed out on the couch, shoes still clasped firmly around her feet. Her face is pressed into the cushions, glasses askew, and her hair falls in every direction. Even from his place by the door, Oliver can still see the set of keys clutched firmly in his wife's hand.

He doesn't fully understand how he and Felicity mesh so well – where he had organization and tidiness literally ingrained into him after years on the island and a need of attention to detail to survive, Felicity was a whirlwind of chaos and disorder, with tablet wires and computer chips stuffed in between the pages of every book in their apartment and circuit boards falling from the pockets of every pair of pants she owns.

Oliver doesn't understand it, but he sure as hell won't question it. He'd be a fool to.

He makes sure to lock the door before striding over to Felicity, on edge ever since he saw two men in suits hanging around his office. He knows he's being paranoid, but he also knows that his alter ego has a knack for drawing trouble, and he'd be damned if he'd let that trouble follow him home to Felicity.

He slowly unties her shoes and pries them off, biting back another laugh when he sees the reindeer socks that Becca had so graciously gifted Felicity on Christmas. He doesn't know exactly what the words on the socks say, but by the way Becca’s father yelped when he saw them let him now that they weren't exactly for little eyes.

It's a good thing Becca can't read.

He tries to get the keys next, reaching over her body to grab them, but within seconds he feels something slapping into his chest and he looks down to see a small hand toying with the fabric of his shirt. Felicity feels around for a bit, giving a squeeze to his right pec, before patting his chest gently and nodding her head.

He thinks she's awake, then, but she's always done weird things while sleeping so he's only about ten seconds into conversation when he realizes her small sighs are just her breathing, not listening. He can't get the key from out of her grasp and he doesn't want to try anymore in fear of waking her, so he just drags the comforter from their bedroom and throws it over her and calls it good.

It's only when he finishes cooking dinner that his sleeping beauty sits up from the couch, lines firmly imprinted on her cheek and hair in complete disarray. He smiles then, because it's her sleepy eyes that light up when she sees him standing in the kitchen – it's her warm body that she presses next to him when she comes to peek at what he's cooking.

Felicity still has a bit of a problem with food, and even with Oliver only ever making what she can handle, it's still hard to get her to eat a solid meal.

And she knows he's trying – she knows how much effort he's putting into making her food that she will actually eat and avoiding the coffee maker every morning. She also knows that everything she consumes has a way of finding its way back up and she decides it's easier to just avoid food in the first place rather than meeting it twice.

But she stands next to him in the kitchen, blanket wrapped tightly around her small figure as Oliver tells her about the little boy who spilled coffee all over his jacket.

She doesn't miss the way his own eyes light up about something so trivial – doesn't miss the way they flicker down to her slightly rounded stomach. It's then Oliver's eyes really light up, because just yesterday his girl's torso had been straight and flat.

He's about to say something, but he swallows the words back up because, even though he didn't really know much about girls, he knew from Thea that commenting on the roundness of their stomachs was a big "no no." Felicity sees his struggle, though, and laughs out loud as she pries his hand way from the spatula and places it firmly on her stomach.

Oliver doesn't exactly know what he feels just then, but he thinks it's bliss because he can't shake beam that has spread across his face. It's weird to think that just a few years ago he thought life was pointless – that nothing good came from it.

But now he's standing in a room filled to the brim with everything important and good and yes, he knows the food is burning, but he can't seem to pull away from his family.

_His family._

**#**

Oliver never understood the whole Groundhog Day concept, but he knows that winter is most definitely not over as he stands at the giant window in his office, watching swirls of snow coat the city in ice.

He can't help but admire the city from way up high. Sure, he’s jumping rooftops and firing arrows through the skyline almost every night, but there’s a beauty in seeing it all in the light of the sun – there’s a beauty in gazing down at the city he commits himself to keeping safe every day.

He's soon snapped out of his thoughts, though, when he hears his door slam shut and looks up to see his mother staring up at him.

He hasn't been on terrible terms with his mother lately, but ever since Felicity had found out that Malcolm Merlyn was Thea’s biological father while digging through some classified files on an Arrow case, they haven’t exactly been on good terms either. He hasn't told his mother that Felicity is expecting either, but it comes out soon enough after she starts talking.

"Those two men that are always here, they’re bad news.”

Oliver nods his head, turning back to the winter wonderland outside as he folds his arms tightly across his chest.

“I know, I saw them the other day.”

He doesn’t know if the two men are there for the Queen name or the vigilante, but the way his mother places a hand on his elbow makes him raise an eyebrow in question.

"No, Oliver, you don't understand."

It’s the tone of her voice that makes the blood drain from his face.

"Then explain."

Moira tells him about the Greek Mafia – tells him about how his father had owed them a debt when he had been alive Greece and now that debt was placed on him. Oliver should have known something was up – Moira had been in and out of the country – but he was too focused on actually enjoying his life for once that he just dismissed the fact.

"Then pay them the debt. Lord knows you have enough money." Oliver makes a faint gesture to the building they are standing in, and even though he wants to speak in the bitter and sarcastic way he is feeling, his voice comes out quiet and humble.

"Not that kind of money, Oliver," Moira runs a hand through her hair, looking at her son for what Oliver can vaguely place as terror. "It’s not the kind of debt that’s owed in money. We're working on it, but you need to know. I don't want you being blindsided, that's all."

Oliver must look confused, making a mental note to bring this up the next time he was in the lair with Felicity and Dig. While he knows that he’s taken down big-time criminals and literally evaded death for five years, something about the way his mother’s eyebrows draw together and lips pull tight makes him think that this may be outside the bounds of even the Arrow.

"Don't tell Felicity, though, the less that she knows the better."

Oliver's eyes harden, and it's a sharp and biting " _Why_?" that pierces the air.

"You don't want her getting hurt, do you? Or yourself, for that matter. I love Felicity, but she tends to babble when she’s nervous and this isn’t something we need getting out." Oliver bites his tongue, knowing just how good Felicity is at keeping a secret, but he shakes his head, still as confused as ever. Moira is halfway out the door before Oliver realizes he's speaking.

"She's pregnant, Mom."

Moira stops dead in her tracks, and Oliver does too. There’s definitely concern in her eyes, Oliver thinks, as Moira pats his upper arm gently – definitely worry he sees in the way she consoles him for the first time since their falling out over Thea’s birth father.

"We'll be okay, Oliver. Just be careful."

**#**

He doesn't tell Felicity and, sure, he feels guilty about it, but he'd rather have that than freak her out. She's a bit off, though, and Oliver can tell that even though she's gained weight in her midsection because of the baby, the rest of her has become slightly thinner.

He's thinking about that as he passes Lauren at the front desk of Queen Consolidated, and gives her a small wave, but it's soon out of his mind as he catches sight of the same two men standing off by the elevators staring right at him.

He takes the stairs, two at a time, and by the time he reaches his floor he's only slightly out of breath. He waves a quick hello to Dig before closing himself in his office, glancing longingly at Felicity’s empty desk.

She’d been so excited when Oliver had informed her of a new opening for a head officer of Research and Development and while she was still his Executive Assistant for the time being, it was a plethora of conferences and innovation fairs that she was constantly attending that left Felicity beaming like no other.

He already had the phone in his hand to call Felicity when it started ringing on its own.

It's Roy, whom Oliver had asked to go with Felicity for protection (he didn’t necessarily _tell_ Felicity that, but that was neither here nor there) and for a second his smile falters before he actually starts talking.

"Okay, man, don't freak out, but Felicity passed out. She's - ,

Oliver's heart nearly stops to the point where he doesn't hear the whole "dehydrated and low iron" part and he's scrambling around the office for his jacket.

"Oliver, did you hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah, what – no."

Roy gets Oliver to chill for about two seconds as Oliver makes his way into the elevator, but soon enough he's asking question after question and too preoccupied to realize one of the men from the lobby was standing right next to him.

Oliver doesn't have time to call up to Diggle, and he sure as hell has no time to walk, so he snags the keys to a company car and hangs up the phone on a jabbering Roy before joining the joys of city traffic.

He hears Felicity before he sees her, and it's a small ball of fury and annoyance he sees yelling at Roy when he turns the corner and stands in the doorway to her room. She's trying her hardest to stand up, and Roy's trying his hardest to keep her still and I.V. intact as "you buttface, why the frack did you fracking call him, he's gonna freak the frack out" is yelled over and over again.

Oliver is still worried, but the sight of Felicity being, well, Felicity has him sagging against the wall in relief as he offers a "you might want to mix up your word choice there, sweetheart. Maybe an occasional ‘dumbass’ or 'asshole' will do" to a now red faced Felicity.

Roy takes this as the time to slowly back out of the room, and Felicity takes this as the time to look slightly guilty.

They both are reminded a little too harshly of the fight they had not too long ago that left them both lying awake all night, so Oliver forgoes the frown and the "you need to take care of yourself, Felicity," as he sits down next to her on the bed and presses his lips to her hair.

She's still in her pencil skirt and blouse, and he's still in his suit, and they both have so much more to be doing than laying in a hospital bed at 9 A.M. but they do anyway until one of doctors come in and discharge her. Oliver has already texted the office to tell them he and Felicity aren’t coming in and while the day had started out as a panic attack in itself, he thinks it might end up being a good one.

Felicity eats some soup as Oliver changes into sweats and while Felicity had talked about marathoning movies all day and eating ice cream, they both manage to pass out on the coach around two in the afternoon in a mess of tangled limbs.

Oliver wakes up a little after five. The sky is already dark and the T.V. is still on, but he stays completely still because Felicity is still pressed up right against him, warm and sound and completely knocked out. He moves his hand from her hip to her stomach and smiles against her hair as her own hand subconsciously falls on top of his.

They stay like that for another two hours, Oliver tracing his fingers along her warm belly, and Oliver starts to slowly drift off again when he feels Felicity move against him – when he hears her murmur and twist, her face scrunched up.

He knows her well enough to realize she's having a nightmare – knows that the pregnancy is what is causing the multitude of them, but as he tries to wake her she jolts up with a yelp, the top of her head colliding with the bottom of his chin. She turns quickly and the unshed tears in her eyes slowly disappear as they take in Oliver’s playful frown and soon enough full-fledged laughs are tearing through her body.

Oliver knows that they should probably both eat, but he's not hungry and she definitely isn't, so he scoops her up and throws her into the bed, deeming it late enough for bed time.

Felicity has different ideas, though, and as they lay in a tangled and panting heap on the bed, Oliver can't really complain.

**#**

They're both back at work soon enough, the small bruise under Oliver's chin looking more like a hickey than anything else, and weeks go by as the snow starts to melt. The air gets warmer as April comes and goes, but it's Starling City, after all, and the winds spiral around outside more than ever.

It's while she's out planning Lyla’s surprise party with Dig and Oliver that she first feels the baby move, and she's scared to death that something's wrong. Oliver doesn't really know anything about it, at this point, because he's also a first-time parent and when everything is actually perfectly fine, the two of them seem to be very good at believing that it's not.

Oliver is in the snack isle, grabbing chips and what not with baby Sara propped on his hip, and it's Dig and Felicity staring at the cakes when he hears Felicity gasp. Dig’s a bit scared at first, with the way Felicity places a hand on her stomach, and his heartbeat quickens as she starts stuttering about how things always go bad and it's a " _what's wrong_ " that he says before stepping closer to Felicity.

His heart nearly breaks when Felicity looks at him with tears mumbling about flutters and how she's always unlucky but soon enough he's cracking a smile wider than ever. Felicity is a bit shocked at the blinding white teeth she sees, but Dig just pulls her into a tight hug and laughs out a "it's the baby, moving, Felicity. Lyla described it the exact same way."

He pulls back and pinches her nose playfully as she lets out a small laugh, wiping the tears from her eyes, but he slings an arm around her shoulders and starts telling her about the time when he got Oliver to change Sara’s diaper for the first time and soon she's filled with laughter.

But it's at Thea’s birthday party in the middle of May that Felicity first feels the baby kick. She's standing in the kitchen with Thea and Lyla, staring down the plate of crackers sitting across from her (she's finally got her appetite back, and it's ferocious) as Oliver laughs loudly at whatever Roy is saying, when she feels him (Oliver thinks it's a girl, she knows it's a boy) give a swift kick to her stomach.

She's so surprised that she drops the glass of water she's holding, and it falls to the ground and shatters loudly. Oliver glances up at her from his spot on the couch, and he's next to her within seconds when he sees her expression.

"Felicity, honey, what is it?" His eyebrows are furrowed and his voice is flustered and Felicity's eyes are a bit teary so he automatically assumes the worst but then she's smiling so brightly that it's blinding and he tilts his head slightly to the side like a confused puppy.

She laughs a little and shakes her head and pulls his hand against her stomach and she's whispering a quiet "wait a second" but he's having a bit of a hard time being patient so his "what's wrong, Felicity" comes out a little too quickly but then he  _feels it_.

"Is that – ,"

Another kick.

"Keep talking, he likes your voice."

"Felicity, what - ,"

And another one. Oliver is the one with the slightly teary eyes now because, yeah sure, he knew they were having a baby, he's seen Felicity and her growing stomach every day now for the past few months but now he feels his baby kicking at it's all so real and so surreal at the same time.

He's laughing now, trying not to cry because he really isn't one to show emotions, but it's Felicity's eyes that are staring at him so intently that he can't help but pull her in close and kiss her long and hard.

Thea and Lyla have already left the room, not ones to pry on moments as intimate as this.

**#**

Oliver jolts awake when he hears a bang from the kitchen, but he's out of bed in two seconds when he realizes Felicity isn't next to him.

He slams into the nightstand on his way to the door and a slew of curse words spill from his mouth as he steps out into the living room.

The lights are all off, but he sees someone moving around in the kitchen. It's Felicity, he knows that instinctively, but he's tired and groggy and hasn't slept soundly in the past three days because the men that have been following him have started frequenting the coffee shop and grocery stores they shop at, so when he starts talking it's not in any language that Felicity understands.

She jumps, not because of the words but because of the fact that Oliver had caught her. Her surprise turns to laughter in seconds, though, because she realizes that the unintelligible murmurs coming from her husband are actually Russian. She knows that Oliver had picked up on a few linguistical skills during his time on Lian Yu but she's still slightly annoyed at herself for momentarily forgetting this small detail about her husband.

Oliver is staring at her, obviously waiting for an answer of some sort, but her "I understand a lot of things, but Russian is not one" is met with a confused Oliver before he shakes of the sleep and actually speaks in English.

"I also speak Chinese,” he manages to drawl out with a tilted grin before letting out a huge yawn. He offers a small laugh before turning back to Felicity, remembering why he was up at this ungodly hour in the first place.

"What are you doing?"

His question is slow and sly, but Felicity's quick "nothing" has him raising his eyebrow at her. He realizes then that she has a jacket on and he rolls his eyes.

"You, my darling, are  _not_  going out right now."

He says it sweetly and sarcastically as he rounds the counter top to reach his wife. He _says_ it playfully, but he means in sincerely, knowing there was no way in hell Felicity was going out in the middle of the city this late at night. Especially with the possibility of more than just gangs and thieves out there.

Felicity steps back, though, as she dodges her husband's grasp.

"Well, _my darling_ ," Felicity says, her face growing slightly red as her stomach growls, "I am hungry."

He snorts and Felicity looks offended and Oliver is all too familiar with the random emotions Felicity has no control over that he quickly wipes the smirk off of his face and clears his throat, biting the insides of his cheeks to keep from smiling.

"And what do you want to eat?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Why?"

"I'll get it myself, it's fine."

"No, I'll go get it, you go back to bed."

"No."

"God, Felicity, you are so stubborn," Oliver is smiling now, but it drops when Felicity makes a dart for the door.

He stops her, of course, because Felicity isn't really trying to beat him and she's also seven months pregnant and Oliver has the build and stamina of a professional athlete so there really isn't any competition, but he still gets a kick out of her small growl and angry frown.

"I'll go get my own food, Oliver."

"Felicity - ,"

"No, Oliver, I'm serious."

"Well hi serious, I'm Oliver."

Felicity really wishes she had every coffee cup she'd ever written a rude name on just to throw them all at her husband, but she just turns and moves closer to the door.

"Alright, alright, Felicity, I'm sorry. I just don't want you going out there right now okay, go to bed and I'll go get it," Oliver's voice has dropped the joking tone.

"I've been out in the city later than this you know. Completely shitfaced, might I add."

"Yeah, but you're _pregnant_ now."

"No, you're pregnant."

"Felicity, that’s not how it works - ,"

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

Felicity bites her lip debating this and that, but they both know that Oliver is the one going out so he grabs his jacket and wallet and leans against the doorframe waiting for Felicity's order.

The little old lady at the twenty four hour grocery store doesn't bat an eye at his odd combination of Cherry Garcia ice cream, Tabasco, and grapes, but she does ask him how many months his girl is and he can't help his smile when he offers a quiet " _seven_."

Felicity is fast asleep when he gets back, and he smiles to himself as he throws the ice cream in the freezer, tangling Felicity into him as he slips back beneath the covers.

**#**

With all the happy going on in his life, Oliver should have known that something was bound to happen. He and his mother had been talking together all morning. It's weird, he thinks, that crisis and panic had brought them to a better level of understanding than anything else had.

They're still a bit rocky – Oliver doesn’t think he can forget all the years he spent under the spell of a lie – the years Thea has spent under that same lie. But he doesn't feel it necessary to bring that up when he feels so happy with his life now. He thinks burying it will be alright for now, never mind the disaster that might strike when they decide to face it.

Moira tells him she'll be going to Markovia soon. Oliver is one part relieved one part on edge. He can stand facing his mother now, but space between the two of them wouldn't be awful – it’d give the both of them the distance they need to ruminate and swallow the reality of their worlds. On the other hand, with her gone, Oliver would be utterly and completely in charge – charity events and all – and that really wasn't a position he wanted to be in with Felicity eight months pregnant.

It's because of this that he's a bit unfocused on his walk home. He was at the office later than normal – it was about nine at night already – and his phone had been pressed to his ear for about half of the walk before he realizes that the same pair of footsteps had been behind him for the past couple of blocks. He wants to beat himself up for disregarding the constant awareness that had kept him alive on the island.

Oliver waits a few seconds before turning a corner, and sure enough the man behind takes the same turn.

Oliver sighs, more annoyed than anything else. But when he looks up, it's the other man walking towards him and Oliver knows that even though he's a skilled fighter, he's royally fucked. He can’t go full out on them without revealing himself as something more than an ex-playboy CEO, so he does the bare minimum to keep himself from getting killed. He manages a few punches, but they manage a few more, and Oliver can barely see straight by the time headlights appear down the alley.

He's thinking he's definitely fucked but then he hears the sirens and Detective Lance and can only manage a small smile before completely passing out.

When he wakes up he's alone in a hospital bed, but there's a police man outside his door. Oliver's head is pounding, and a few ribs are definitely broken, but it's nothing he really hasn't felt before. The cops ask him a few questions – the guys had gotten away – and because of the shadiness of the situation and his mother and father’s role in it, he lies and tells him he was mugged.

Lance stops him on the way out, a concerned expression covering his face rather than the normal one of vague distaste. He grimaces at Oliver’s appearance, but it’s a father shaking hands with a father soon enough as he tells Oliver to keep himself and his family safe.

Oliver is thankful as hell that Lance didn’t call Felicity – apparently that was the only coherent thing they were able to get out of him on the way to the hospital – because Felicity would have been there worrying within seconds and that was _definitely_ not something he wanted her doing.

He wants to deny the ride home in the police car, but he can't really walk – doesn't really want to either.

Felicity is a mess when she sees him, and he thinks she's overreacting until he sees himself in the mirror with dried blood down his white dress shirt. It’s caked on his face and really looks a lot worse than it is, so he pulls Felicity close to him and mutters a soft, "I’m okay, Felicity, I've had worse."

That only makes Felicity cry harder and Oliver wants to hit himself on the head for saying that but he thinks that one more to the brain wouldn't be very good. Felicity cleans him up better than the hospital does, redoing his stitches on his face (he definitely has the most brilliant partner in crime) and he takes the pain killers Felicity gives him, more so to appease her than himself. He tells her everything then, because it's stupid not to, and he says a silent "fuck you" to whatever ill will that exists in the world that keeps sending misfortunes their way.

Felicity falls into a restless sleep, but Oliver is wide awake when she wakes up screaming, and he pulls her against him and strokes her hair as she sobs and sobs into his chest, fingers grasping his shirt so tightly and desperately. He wants to say it's because of the baby that Felicity is acting like this, but they both know that it's not true and as Felicity's sobs slowly turn into short, uneven breaths, he knows none of them are getting any sleep that night.

So he talks, about everything and nothing, and she listens, because if they were ever good at anything, it was healing.

**#**

Felicity's mother is in town, helping the two of them finish getting everything ready for the baby, and while Oliver absolutely loved Donna, there was only so much baby talk he could take before his head started to spin. He was fine now, only a scar left as a wound of war. Donna asked about it, but he deflected the question with his trademark Queen charm and killer smile.

He's finalizing a deal with another firm when his phone starts ringing, and he apologizes quickly before picking up the phone. It's Donna, and Felicity is in labor, and "yes Oliver, I know she's two weeks early, everything's gonna be okay, just get here okay?" and it's a wide-eyed Oliver standing in the middle of a full conference room.

"Mr. Queen?"

"I, uh, I have to go," Oliver slowly slips his phone into his back pocket.

"Mr. Queen, you _can't_ leave until we- ,"

He’s gathering his things, paying absolutely no mind to Isabel, as Dig texts him that he’s bringing the car around.

“ _Mr. Queen,_ I –,”

"No offense, Ms. Rochev, but I don't really care. I have to go. My wife is in labor."

Oliver smiles as he walks out, mostly because he's going to be a dad, but also because he _really_ doesn’t like Isabel and, in the business world, he basically just very nicely told her to fuck off.

Felicity is absolutely petrified. She knows everything about what is going to happen – she's read every book about it for frack’s sake – but she can't help her hands from shaking as she lays in the hospital bed with another contraction ripping through her body.

Donna stands right next to her holding her hand tightly, a mix between a grin and a sympathetic smile on her face.

 

Her cries slowly turn into shallow breathing as it passes, but tears roll out of her eyes. She's more terrified than she is in pain, and even though her mother always scared away the monsters under her bed, she only really wants Oliver right now. More than anything.

"Mom, Mommy," Felicity squeezes her eyes shut as another one hits, and her whimpers increase as her body writhes with pain. "Oliver. Where's Oliver? I want him. Mama, I want – I _need_ \- ,"

"I know baby, I know. He's coming." Her voice is soothing as she pulls Felicity's hair out of her face.

Felicity just keeps her eyes shut as she breathes, a yelp leaving her lips as the next contraction comes through even stronger.

"Felicity - ,"

"Oliver!" Donna smiles before motioning him over. She gives him a quick hug and then pecks Felicity on the forehead and suddenly, Felicity is feeling a lot more selfish.

"No, Mama, stay."

"Only one in the room, baby."

"I can step out - ,"

" _No_!" Both Felicity and Donna say, one desperately and one laughingly.

Donna stares at Felicity for a second before smiling proudly at the two of them

"Trust me baby, you don't need me. You got this. Oliver is here, okay? You're okay."

Felicity nods and turns to Oliver, and Donna can't help but smile as she watches Felicity grab at his hand when her next contraction hits – can't help but tear up a bit at the way she curls into him as he bows his face next to hers so their foreheads touch and he says something that makes Felicity laugh and cry out all at once. He's still talking, but only Felicity can really hear him, and that's all that matters.

Felicity has been pushing for what seems like hours now, and it's Oliver rooting her along with sweet nothings and small kisses and he's pretty sure she's broken two of his fingers but he's also pretty sure that she's never looked more beautiful than she does now.

"Oliver I can't, I can't - ,"

"Come on sweetheart, one more," He says softly.

"It hurts," she whimpers, and it cracks his heart right down the middle. He doesn't know why the hell she refused the drugs – if he were in her position, he'd be high as hell right now – but she did and he can't help but admire her for it.

"I know, baby, just one more."

Oliver doesn't really know what happens after that – it's all a blur – but soon enough he's holding his baby girl in his hands and he thinks she has Felicity's nose but he can't really see because his eyes are clouded with tears. He hands her to Felicity and they both just stare and stare and stare.

"You were right," Felicity whispers with a soft smile, her finger tracing down the small baby’s nose. "A girl."

Oliver really can't say anything because he thinks that if he opens his mouth he'll cry and that'll really do a number on his masculinity. But when she opens her eyes it's like staring into a mirror and _that's_ when Oliver really understands that she is  _his_  and he can't stop the tears then – he doesn't want to.

Felicity watches her husband and daughter stare at each other, and her own eyes start tearing up when her finger is suddenly grasped by a small hand. Oliver kisses his daughter on her tiny forehead before pulling Felicity in for a kiss, and it's wet and sloppy because they both are crying.

"Let's name her coffee," Oliver's voice is gravely and scratchy and so full of love and laughter and he can't even get out the sentence before Felicity is giggling loudly at his wide grin. She shakes her head and looks back down at her girl,  _her_ baby girl, before replying softly to her moron of a husband.

"You're ruining the moment, idiot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really hope you enjoyed! I might have to sign off for a few days to study, but thank you to all who have been reading my stories! Love, love, love you all!
> 
> Please review! It makes me feel yellow! ;)))

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Have a safe and Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate!! I am so thankful for each and every one of you!!! :)


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